A Poet's Secret

Chapter 2

"Who the fuck is..." I wake up, bonnet nowhere to be found, alarm blaring, and someone honking outside. It was 7:30 and Sierra was already here. Fuck. We're gonna be late.

I get up and get ready as fast as I can. Taking out the frizzed-up twists in my hair, I brushed and brushed and tried to make it look at least presentable but doing my hair in a rush was a skill I yet to master so I dropped the brush, pulled out a good old shoelace and tied my hair up in a bun/ponytail thingy and it looked decent.

I heard the familiar ringtone of my phone from my room. Jumping over the clothes scattered across my bedroom floor I answer the phone.

"Where are you bitch" the voice of Sierra rang through the phone as I put her on speaker

"Good morning to you too"

"I'm getting ready give me like ten minutes"

"We're not gonna have enough time for Starbies if you don't hurry"

"Come in and get coffee here I think my mom made some," I say as I put on some pants

"Ugh I hate you"

"I know you don't"

I quickly brush my teeth and pull on a hoodie disregarding the very noticeable stain on the shoulder. I shrug. My backpack would cover it. Downstairs I hear Sierra and my mom exchanging pleasantries as I pack my bag and put on some shoes. Well- crocs but same difference.

"Okay, I'm ready to go"

Sierra turns away from the kitchen counter to look at me. She assesses my choice of clothing.

"You know Christmas is in like 3 months right?"

"Yeah, why?" I say walking over to make myself a cup of tea. Coffee makes me a little too jittery.

"You're wearing Christmas pajama pants Zor"

"They're cozy! C'mon let's go we're already late"

"Fine. Bye, Mrs. Mckelin!" Sierra yells from the kitchen

"Bye Sierra" my mom responds as she walks back into the kitchen from her office. She gives me a kiss on the cheek like she's done every day since kinder.

"Bye Mom" I roll my eyes yet still unable to conceal my smile

"You girls have a good day"

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

"I'm gonna head to class," Sierra says right as we walk into the main hallway

I eye her suspiciously "Hmm sure 'class'"

"Byeee" she sings, smirking

She leaves me with a pang of jealousy in my chest. No wonder she didn't wanna be late.

She leaves knowing she doesn't deceive me or anyone else in school.  It's not unusual for her to have one of her flings before school. She has them anytime, anywhere and everyone knows it. Sierra just doesn't do relationships and nobody knows why, not even me.

Her girl for this week was Jenny or Jenna or something.

Shaking my head I head to my locker getting my books as kids stroll to their classrooms not caring if they'll be late. As I was pulling out my creative writing book I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and normally I'd be scared but I've gotten used to Ezra's antics.

"Hey babe" he whispers in my ear after kissing me on the cheek

"Hey '' I whisper back, closing my locker, turning around to face him and I kiss him. I kiss him hard to try and forget that Sierra is probably kissing the fuck out of Jenny in a storage closet somewhere. I kiss Ezra until the late bell rings ignoring all the disgusted groans from students passing by.

"Good morning to you," he says after we pull apart smiling

I smile back tenderly feeling bad for using him like that which I do a lot. I use him to forget.

"We should head to class"

He then grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers, and walks me to my first-period class where instead of the usual rumbling of students talking when the bell rings, I'm met with an awkward silence that wipes the smile off my face. I looked around and met my teacher's eyes. Mr. Rios seemed especially irritated today.

"Zora I understand that this class is an elective but some students do intend to take it seriously so respect them and me by not interrupting lessons and coming to class on time"

Clearing my throat I apologize and find my seat at the back of the classroom. I swear this guy hates me for no reason at all and he finds it so hard to believe that I actually took creative writing because I actually like writing and I have no idea why.

At the beginning of the school year, Mr. Rios had every single student bring a notebook to school and write in it every day. He gave us a prompt every morning and lowkey some of the things that I've written in that journal could quite easily ruin my life. I've had journals since I was like 12 but Mr. Rios said we had to have a journal for this class and that he wouldn't be reading any of our answers to his prompts that he'd just be checking for completion so I just started using my regular journal for his class.

Somedays Rios gives us silly prompts or sci-fI  prompts but today he seems to want us to write something a bit deeper, more personal because as he starts to write against the chalkboard  he insists on keeping, despite the rest of the teachers upgrading to whiteboards, the prompt spells out "define what love means to you."

"You guys, as we've just begun the poetry unit, I would encourage you to try and write the prompt today in a poem format. As we learned yesterday not all poems have to rhyme; they just have to invoke either feelings or thoughts. You either want the reader to feel what you're feeling, look at a situation from your perspective, or make them think about something that's consuming you. I want you guys to write without thinking about whether what you're writing makes sense and I don't want any surface-level bullshit. Dive deep, you are a human you're allowed to feel."

"Write and don't erase or scribble out anything. Your 10 minutes starts... now"

For a full minute, I just sit and stare at my paper. I know what I want to write but if I put it on paper it's like I'm fully admitting it and I don't want to. I wish I wanted to write that love to me meant the kisses my mom gives me every night before I go to sleep and every morning before I head out. I wish I wanted to write about Ezra and how he loves me with everything he has and about that one time that he helped me take out my months-old braids but no. None of those come to mind as the answer to the prompt.

"Mcklein start writing" Rios's voice echoes behind me

"The things that you're most scared of writing are always the things that are best to write"

So I do. I write. I pick up my favorite blue pen and I write.